Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Panama and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Tropical Tobacco to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Tres Demented,
Popol Vuh,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Neon Judgement,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Star Department,
Amon Düül II,
Robert Hood,
Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Divine Comedy,
Slave,
The Human League,
Angry Samoans,
Kayak,
Second Layer,
Zapp,
Jerry's Kids,
Al Stewart,
Eric Copeland,
F. McDonald,
The Blackbyrds,
John Coltrane,
Television Personalities,
Chris & Cosey,
Das Ding,
Soul II Soul,
Spandau Ballet,
The Barracudas,
Mandrill,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Guru Guru,
The Moleskins,
Eve St. Jones,
Lucky Dragons,
Carl Craig,
Warsaw,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Goldenarms,
The Invisible,
Alphaville,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gories,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liliput,
Underground Resistance,
Fat Boys,
China Crisis,
Jacques Brel,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Mojo Men,
The Slackers,
the Swans,
Moebius,
Franke,
Ralphi Rosario,
Anthony Braxton,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.